


The Time Love Takes

by RebelPaisley



Category: Power Rangers Ninja Storm
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, First Impressions, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Missed Opportunity, Pre-Relationship, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, multiple romantic interests, past shenanigans, socially awkward Cam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelPaisley/pseuds/RebelPaisley
Summary: Being a ranger does not always guarantee a happy ending.  Romantically speaking, sometimes the will of a few humble rangers doesn’t play out the way they’d want it to, for a multitude of reasons.  Hunter knows this better than others. So does Eric, and Damon, and…The list is uncomfortably long.





	1. Conflicting Objectives - Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> It's the six year anniversary of me posting my first story on ff.net, and I’m ashamed that for the first time, I missed the mark by a few days :(. While December 2nd marks the official passage of my writing anniversary, things have been particularly busy this year, so please accept this humble offering of story a few days after the fact.
> 
> This is a prompt that toys with the idea of failed romances, of relationships that weren’t quite meant to be, which is an angle that’s yet to be explored in the ‘Any Moment’ verse. This story takes place during many different time periods, but this first chapter can be placed between the events of ‘Happiness is a Firefly’ and ‘All Things Great and True’. You don’t really need to read either of those to ride the angst-train though, that’s free of charge :).
> 
> Thank you to everyone who’s read my stories – be they long-time reader or new to the fold. I am forever grateful to have an audience crazy enough to have stuck around for this long, and I sincerely hope that these stories have provided some kind of happiness or entertainment for you, however little. 
> 
> Extra thanks to The Real Vampire and Kei Luna Shoryu, for their kindness, support, and friendship. Vamps, you’ve helped me grow into the writer I am today and Kei, you rekindle my enthusiasm for Power Rangers with prompts and ideas that make me fall in love with the fandom all over again. I am grateful for both of you, and forever in your debt :)
> 
> Warnings – References to boy/boy relations, adult language, and general angstiness.
> 
> This baby is raw and un-beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

At this point, hating Cam was a safety net for Hunter.

He knew it wasn’t kind, knew it hurt Shane in a small way – the same hurt the air ninja suffered whenever his friends were attacked (‘kind’ didn’t even begin to breach the depth of words required to accurately describe the other ranger’s character), but it was… necessary. 

For a time, Hunter had honed his rage into a shield that had made the situation bearable – had met the standards required to justify any guilt or potential shame – but that time had long since passed.  Now Hunter was left with the bitter ramifications of his actions, the results of his survival mechanisms seeming to perpetuate in an endless repetition.

He didn’t like it.  Didn’t like the way his hatred hung over all their interactions like a second skin, something so inherently _accepted_ that the others no longer saw need to question it, to fight it, to deter it.  The fact that something so negative had become a given standard made Hunter feel nauseous, even more so when faced with the fact that this result was directly by his hand.  _He_ had made this.  He was the one who couldn’t end it. 

He was the one who was holding onto something with the sheer terror that the moment that he let it go, his entire world might crash around his feet.

Here was the plain and simple truth of it:

Hunter liked Cam.

Hunter liked Cam _a lot_ , had always liked Cam and – once the tech felt comfortable enough around them to actually come out of his shell – Hunter liked his sarcastic and snarky ass even more.

Which had been a particular problem, because Cam hadn’t liked _him_.

Hunter wasn’t sure where they stood now (though if his understanding of socially-wayward individuals was up-to-date, he and Cam held each other with begrudging respect), but he knew for a fact that the Cam of old was not particularly fond of Hunter.  Some might have called him ‘jealous’ or ‘borderline hostile’ in the wake of conflicting emotional interactions that his shut-in ass had probably been struggling to come to terms with, but Hunter was just spitballing here. 

The point of this little diatribe was ultimately that Cam – Cam did not like Hunter.  In the moments where Hunter had been striving to work for the opposite opinion, Cam had been cultivating a dislike for Hunter, and when the blond had dared to even try – _gasp_ – making a _move_ on Cam, well…

The entire ordeal had been a train wreck so goddamn _spectacular_ , Hunter was just – _amazed_ that he had managed to miss it.

Cam had hurt him.

Now that they knew each other better – now that Hunter had a taste of the actual and real Cam – the blond knew that the tech’s actions had not been intentionally malicious.  In hindsight, his motivations seemed almost… innocently naïve.

Because Cam must have thought… he must have thought there was no way he could have ever hurt Hunter.  He must have assumed that the blond was either so grossly uninvested in him that any kind of rejection would have just rolled off of Hunter’s back or that he, himself, was not a big enough – a grand enough – prize to warrant any kind of ill-feeling upon not being deemed worthy of being his significant other.  Or something.

The only reason Cam could have possibly pulled the shit he had was because he couldn’t have thought that it _mattered_.

For Hunter, it had been the exact opposite.

The only reason he had been really willing to try was because he thought, just– based on what Blake had going with Tori – he thought maybe this would be a situation he couldn’t lose.  Cam wasn’t some random teenager, Cam was a _ranger_ , and before that, he was team support and–

And that meant something.  Hunter had seen all the old news reports about the previous ranger teams.  Every newscast about Wes Collins and Eric Myers, about Carter Grayson and the Lightspeed Rescue team.  He saw these people – the damn _Space_ rangers, who had revealed their identities for the sake of protecting innocent civilians – all of these people, they were just… greater, than your average person.  They had this…they just knew, alright?  They had to know, know the cost of a battle and what was at stake, they had to know determination and the unyielding need to do the right thing.  Their teams had it and Hunter’s team – while scrappy and thrown together and, frankly, all kind of assholes – they had it too.  In their own ways.

Hunter saw Cam – this, one and a million person – and thought, for the first time, that he might be safe.  That there might be something there that he could actually pursue.  That this might be a road he could possibly go down without fear of total failure, or condemnation, or rejection.

If there would be a refusal, Cam would have been nice about it, Hunter thought.  He was a ranger, and just – inherently _good_ – so he wouldn’t be- he _couldn’t_ be cruel.

This mindset – these projections – that was all on Hunter.  Cam had entered into an understanding that the blond had never been stupid enough to explain, because he had thought – assumed (and you know what they say about assuming) that Cam just…knew.  He was a smart guy, he had to know.

Hunter threw himself in and he never bothered with any of the warning signs – never mind that Cam was a genius, completely devoid of any peers that could shield him from isolation.  Never mind that he was a non-ninja in a goddamn _ninja academy_ , further pushing him into a life of solitude, of _otherness_.  Never mind that he had been homeschooled and never mind that he apparently hadn’t spoken much to the teens at the academy, or that his mom was dead, or that his father, while loving, also had an academy full of students and faculty that looked to him for constant guidance and protection.

The indicators had all been there, but Hunter had never bothered to see them, because Cam had _them_.  Cam was one of _them_ , and they were rangers, and a really stupid part of Hunter had always taken comfort in the fact that their morphers and the very notion that they were willing to put their lives on the line for the sake of others automatically made them good guys.  Like, seriously.  Hunter knew he was a piece of shit, but he was a piece of shit who was a _ranger_ , so clearly, he was not past the point of redemption.  There was some _hope_ for his stupid soul. 

And clearly, Cam wasn’t Hunter, so he was obviously _better_ , and-

And Cam had never had any meaningful teenage interactions in his life until he had started working with the team, and the constant life-threatening situations tended to cut into the time one might have taken to like, probably adjust to that situation.

Cam had been faking it – faking it as well as Hunter faked normality – faking the fact that he knew what was going on, that he had a normal understanding of social interactions (not that Hunter was exactly a shining example of that himself, but Cam kind of made him look like a demigod), and he really just…didn’t.

It had been a recipe for disaster that Hunter had been too relieved to acknowledge, because he could _have_ something.  He-

He didn’t have to be alone.

And he had liked Cam.

At the time, he had been trying very hard to downplay it – had successfully kept his expectations low up until the point where it all came back to blow itself up in his face – until he realized how deep the damage went, how real it was. 

Cam was a genius – not just tech-wise, but from a strategic standpoint, the teen was almost frighteningly prepared.  He was paranoid of worst case scenarios in a way that had Hunter glowing with approval.  His wit was sharp and dry and just – the timing with this guy – _perfection_.  He was clever in a way Hunter wanted to study, he was…

Well, he wasn’t bad to look at either, and sometimes, Hunter contemplated what it would be like to have that soft look of approval aimed at _him_ , that warm kind of appreciation and pride intended for the crimson ranger, in a way that wasn’t sarcastic or deriving or-

Hunter had _wanted_ it.

So bad so that he hadn’t- he hadn’t even _thought_ about Dustin.  Hadn’t factored the yellow ranger into the equation when he was _exactly_ Cam’s type – something small and unpredictable that needed Cam’s guidance, that Cam could guide in return.  Someone at as great a social disadvantage as Cam was, someone who was, unquestionably, not a threat.

Because threatening things were not exactly boyfriend-material.

Hunter had come on too strong.  He had wanted it too much, he had- he had been really stupid about it. 

And then the thing with Dustin and- it just seemed like it _fit_ , right?  They were rangers and rangers weren’t conventional, so why the hell should they have a conventional relationship?  Why should they allow society to dictate the structure of their emotional connections when they were constantly putting their lives on the line?  In what way was the world qualified to judge their relationships?  It wasn’t, so fuck it, if Dustin was game, Hunter was game, and he already knew Cam liked him, so-

Then they got to the point where it became very obvious that Cam did _not_ like him, and Hunter had thrown himself into rage to avoid the horrifying certainty of heartbreak that would follow.

For a while, it worked.

And then four or five months went by, new relationships were developed, friendships discovered, the _real_ Cam came into light, and…

And then it didn’t, anymore.

Hunter held onto this hate – this dislike, really, it wasn’t even intense enough to be classified as hate anymore – because it was the only protection he had left.  Hunter loved Shane – he did, as stupidly terrifying as that was – but he couldn’t…

He couldn’t squash that initial attraction he had for Cam – and in a truly detestable way – he found that he didn’t really want to.

You could love more than one person.  Hunter had decided on that a long time ago.  You could love more than one person because love was, in itself, a choice.  There was no such thing as ‘soulmates’, there were no ‘one true loves’ because people weren’t two dimensional stereotypes.  They grew with time.  They changed.  Their needs changed, and as was the case with so many things in life, there are multiple ways to satiate the romantic needs of an individual.  Different ways to fill the void.  Different people to decide to be known by, to decide to care for, to decide to grow with.

Hunter loved Shane.  And Hunter – damn his stupid ass to hell – he loved Cam too.  He knew this without doubt.

He hated it, but knew it – then moved on.

Hunter would hate Cam for as long as reasonably possible – because hating Cam was safe.  Hating Cam did not risk a friendship that could accidently slip into something greater, that would accidently push into something the tech did not truly want.  Hating Cam was the coward’s way out, but it was also unquestionably _safe_.

The day would come where Hunter would have to be a mature adult, where he would have to follow in Cam’s footsteps and swallow down the affection (because the green ranger loved Shane, as little as he would admit it, but he had never allowed it to affect him because he was so damn _good_ ) in trade for decency, in trade for the comradery they could get, that would be good but not enough – and a piece of Hunter would die inside.

Hunter loved Shane, and he hated the fact that there could possibly be another that could shake his devotion ( _shit_ , he was at the point of labeling it ‘devotion’ and not shuddering in disgust, _fuck him_ ), but it was there, and unlike the past, Hunter was not going to deny the truth that was in front of him.

He had learned from his mistakes - too late, but he had no regrets.

It was enough.  It had to be enough.


	2. Missed Opportunities - Damon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings – References to boy/boy relations, PTSD, low self-esteem, adult language, and general angstiness.

The thing was – Damon didn’t really hate Kai.

There just didn’t ever feel like there could be any justification for it.  Mostly, because when Kai had burst into Damon’s safe little world of maintenance and engineering upkeep it had been with stubborn eyes and minimal conversation, devoid any kind of humanizing appeal save for the misplaced but, again, _stubborn_ insistence of throwing himself into something he was entirely unqualified to do.  

Kai had been a hurricane of determination, shattering basic societal understandings with pure _want_ and, in the beginning, Damon hadn’t liked him all that much.  First impressions, and all that.

Kai’s first impression left him as gruff and stoic with a hefty side dish of regular ole’ _crazy_ – and Damon, had he no soft spot for misunderstood underdogs – would have ignored him on any other day.  The entire concept of enabling someone to actually _use_ the Astro Megaship was grossly irresponsible, not to mention a very fine way to earn himself a court-martialing at the beginning of their one-way ticket into the vast unknown.  It was _insane_ , for lack of a better word.  Just because the Megaship had been a recent addition to Terra Venture didn’t mean it was still safe for deep space flight, they had turned it into a _museum_ for Christ’s sake.  A _museum._

Damon didn’t know what possessed him to take pity on Kai, except maybe the random urge that this…tragically broken person probably had enough terrible shit happen to them in life and, he didn’t know, maybe flying off to places unknown would somehow make him less broken.  Or something.  Damon hadn’t really followed the logic, but there had been a lot of pity involved, along with a hefty desperation to take the Megaship out on a test run himself.  If the thing was leaving dock _anyway_ , Damon might as well be behind the wheel, so to speak.

Not that he was sure Kai could have even gotten the thing flying on his own, but Kai was…well, he was stubborn.  Even though Damon hadn’t really known him, he could guess by the other man’s disposition that he would have probably kept flipping switches and levers until _something_ happened.  Really, Damon’s actions had been the best option for everyone involved, including the structural integrity of the Astro Megaship.

So Damon met Kai, and he didn’t exactly hate him, but he didn’t exactly _like_ him (because there hadn’t been much there to like, as ashamed as Damon was to think it, just curt discipline and a gaze that wouldn’t quite meet your own).  They flew into space and somehow became power rangers _power rangers,_ Damon still couldn’t believe they were real – he had been an east coast boy, born and raised, and it was still hard to wrap his mind around it) and the shock and awe of that kind of clouded everything over for a little while.

When the dust settled, a man was dead, and Kai (gruff, _dangerous_ Kai) looked even more lost in the new suit he wore – not shocked and not scared but just…wandering. 

Damon didn’t waste much more time on him though, because there were three other people he hadn’t met, three other _rangers_ , and one of them-

One of them was Leo.

It took a few days for things to settle down, after that.  Living quarters changed, Damon and Kai weren’t court-martialed, and Leo…

Leo mourned.

The dead man had been his brother, Mike. 

Damon didn’t expect the red ranger to bounce back quickly from that loss, but he did – somehow – whether it was because he was a ranger now or if it was because he was pushing the pain away by ignoring it or some other kind of unhealthy coping mechanism, Damon didn’t know, but it happened.  Whether it was the real Leo or a fake Leo, Damon would never be sure.  The only thing he knew was this:

Damon liked Leo.

He liked him _a lot_.  And if his subconscious had anything to say about it (which it did, frequently, resulting in many awkward mornings where Damon either had to sneak into the shower before the other two woke up or try to talk down his morning wood with the most viscous memories he could dig up), Damon had been pretty much devoted to Leo since the first time he smiled Damon’s way, since they shared their first _‘hot damn, we are really rangers now, how the hell did we become rangers?’_ conversation, because he really, _really_ wasn’t alone.   

Damon wasn’t sure how anyone could dislike Leo, because the guy was gregarious, loud and cheerful and just- outrageously kind.  He kept the team’s spirits up when they wavered, encouraged Damon and Kendrix during their combat training (Kendrix, the fellow scientist and genius of the team, Kendrix, who started off just as disadvantaged as Damon), he kept them together when they were falling apart, even when himself had no idea what was going on.  When he himself had no idea what he was doing as a ranger, and didn’t know the rules or the guidelines.  Hell, he hadn’t even been the original recipient of the red Quasar Saber, but he carried it anyway with pride.  For Mike, for Terra Venture.

It would have been difficult not to like Leo, which was why Damon had never put forth the effort.

There were times when he wished he had, but those were times built up from bitterness, times that were immediately squashed by shame and gratitude that Leo had been there at all, Damon knowing his life was better off because of it.

The thing was, Damon had gotten shoved far into the friend zone early on.

He hadn’t minded, of course, because in the beginning his attraction had been a small thing, and he had been just as overwhelmed with their situation as Leo.  They had ranger duties on top of their delegated tasks for Terra Venture, and Leo had lost his only remaining family member on top of that.  Had Damon been in any kind of a position to make a move on Leo (as though he had _moves_ , damn it, Damon was a nerd whose greatest school ambitions had been science fairs and engineering internships, he had _no_ game) he never would have attempted it, out of respect for the other man’s period of mourning.  Leo may have shown it less and less after the initial days of Mike’s passing, but Damon knew that was a thing that lingered, knew it in the sad looks Maya sometimes aimed at the red ranger’s back when the wasn’t looking, knew it the same way his own heart ached with the loss of his mother, the only blood relative he had left tethering him to Earth.

There were a lot of different reasons people signed up for the Terra Venture Initiative, and while they may not have a great deal in common, having little to no family to leave behind was a recurring theme among recruits.

Damon had handled Leo the only way he could in the early days, with easy comradery and respectful distance, eager to learn and grow and befriend this man he met on a distant world, the one crazy enough to sneak aboard a space shuttle, who fought pickpockets off of little old ladies and misplaced their passports.

It had…it had seemed fair.

Were it not for Kai, it might have been.

Because Kai – Kai wasn’t Leo in any kind of regard.  Kai carried himself as a soldier dedicated to his duty and nothing else, his countenance one of continual sorrow and reserve - always gruff, isolated, and defensive.

It was the attitude of a man who had seen some real _shit_ , and it reminded Damon too much of his late grandfather, an injured veteran from the war, rife with ‘shellshock’.  They called it PTSD now, and maybe Kai had it, though his skittishness seemed to be forcibly controlled, his paranoia quiet and calculating.

Damon had no idea how long it took Kai to trust them.  Hell, they beat Trakeena and he still wasn’t sure if Kai trusted them, only that he deemed to work with them for the greater good.

It was true he never really had an understanding of Kai, or even a guess on the past the blue ranger never spoke about (what he offered them was a lie, Damon knew that much – Mike too, when he came back, when the world turned itself on its head).

Aside from working together to stay alive though, Damon didn’t really have a need to talk to Kai.

But Leo did.

He was the team’s red ranger, the leader, the one responsible for all of them.  That included Kai, as little as the blue ranger seemed to need them.  Kai never appeared to falter in battle, never seemed to weaken or doubt or fear, it was there he seemed the most complete.  Damon wasn’t sure what that said about him, only knew that outside of combat, Kai was just…barely there.

So naturally, Leo had to talk to him.  A lot.  There had to be a connection, there, Kai _had_ to be in sync with the rest of them and he _had_ to know they had his back (because Leo was kind, kind and caring and _good_ ) and Leo was stubborn, just as stubborn as Kai was the day he had stormed the Astro Megaship, demanding a trip into space.

Damon never saw it coming, but he should have, based on how blasé Leo had been about mourning Mike.  Kai was a puzzle wrapped in an enigma, and what better way could you _really_ ignore something - push something away - then to challenge something so completely different and unfathomable that you didn’t have time to dwell on it at all?  Kai was everything Leo needed to move on with his life, Kai was- maybe Kai was a good guy.  Maybe the blue ranger was all that and decent, maybe he was broken and different _and_ shy, and Leo was the only one with the real motivation to fight through the mystery to see it.

And the thing was, Kai _was_ nice.

It was hard to tell, because the Ensign was so tentative to act on it, as though he were unpracticed or, afraid even, of failure, but Kai was unquestionably kind.  In his own, subdued way, Kai cared for them (though it almost seemed like a struggle, like something he had not allowed himself in a long time).  Kai fought for them, protected them.  He trained them in a harsh way that feared for their destruction, was rigorous and tough to counter Leo’s gentler approach, _needing_ for them to perform their forms correctly, needing them to be ready.

Damon supposed the fact that the man had been willing to pilot a ship he had no knowledge of to fly across _the galaxy_ should have more than spoken for his character, but Damon had been distracted by his sheer…Kai-ness.

Watching Kai and Leo fall for each was an exercise in holding his breath, Damon’s chest slowly crushed in a hallowed, aching vice, insistent and burning and _oh_ , so _slow_.

Damon didn’t hate Kai for being the spark Leo needed to be himself again, because that wasn’t his fault.  And, it became pretty clear later down the line that the blue ranger had enough unfounded self-loathing to fill up the universe’s quotient and then some, there didn’t seem much point in Damon adding to the pile, not when he liked the blue ranger himself.

He could never, _never_ begrudge Leo his happiness (even if Damon wished it was he that could inspire those grins, who could appreciate those inside jokes and bright eyes and that unmitigated joy firsthand), and he couldn’t resent Kai just the same.  Not when he approached it with such hesitant gait, as though fearing it would be stolen away at the last second, or worse, that it had never been real in the first place.

These things, Damon could not hate.  They were his friends; he wanted them to be happy, to be _whole_.

It didn’t stop himself from cursing his early inaction though – if he had just made his intentions clearer, if he had just _tried_ , then maybe-

Maybe he could have had something.  Maybe they all could have had something.  If he had given Kai more of a chance.  If he had been as open as Leo.

Maybe, but it didn’t matter anymore, Damon had missed his shot.  He wasn’t going to break the delicate balance they had created for themselves just because of his own feelings.

He loved them too much to ever try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time :)


	3. Too Good To Be True - Blake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings – References to past child abuse, loss of immediate family members, adult language, and general angstiness.
> 
> Takes place during the early episodes of Ninja Storm.

Blake couldn’t date Tori.

He made the rule to ensure that he wouldn’t slip up when things got too hectic, wouldn’t yield to the plagues of an average teenager, catering to hormones and loneliness and subtle needs for attention that were unnecessary for a ninja of his caliber. 

Tori was attractive, sure, but all of team Ninja Storm was attractive in their own way (even Dustin, with his doofy curls), but she carried herself with this fierceness, this self-assurance and reserved disposition that promised strict hell to pay for any that would cross her.  Blake had seen the look enough on Hunter to recognize it for what it was – Tori was dangerous, and Blake-

Stupid, _stupid_ Blake, pictured that as a bonus.

Not that he ever got to see it though, at least, not outside of battle.  The Winds were still playing nice once Hunter and Blake decided to join the team, stuck in this tentative area of play-friendship, forced comradery and platitudes and _ugh_ , it just sucked.  Blake would give anything for them to actually just act like _themselves_. 

The civility would dampen eventually – it had to, but until then, the Winds were all nice, _all the time_ , seemingly seconds away from spouting prose about the ‘ _power of friendship’_ and _‘goodness always prevailing’_ and- _holy hell_ , Blake could not date Tori.

The main problem here (among the many, many problems) was that Tori was simply too different.  ‘Sheltered’, was a good word for it.  Jesus, she and the wonder twins were a part of their academy’s _worst_ team, there were no backup alternatives to be found because they _were_ the backups.  The bottom of the barrel.  The benchwarmers for the benchwarmers.  Just- the fact that they had morphers at all was ridiculous.  Blake and Hunter joked about it all the time, usually after reenacting one of Dustin’s battle wipeouts in the safety of their apartment, because they were both undeniably assholes.

There was also that- the fact that Blake was, you know, terrible, and whatever hint of wickedness Tori had to offer couldn’t ever hope to compare to the sheer monstrosity that was normal-Blake.  The Blake that wasn’t all smiles and pretend kind words, the one who lied through his teeth just about…always.  She couldn’t handle that.  Frankly, she didn’t deserve to handle that, because despite the fact that she was undisciplined enough to be the _worst_ water ninja at her academy, Tori was actually decent.  Kind.  She deserved decent kindness in return. 

She and Shane would be perfect for each other, really.  It was like Superman and Lois Lane – the brawn and the brains – except inept novices, but at least they would be _nice_ to each other.  Go on dates and hold open doors and talk about their very whole family units and house chores and whatever the hell it was the Winds did when they weren’t rangering.  Not-training, definitely.  But who knew beyond that.  Bunko?  They probably played Bunko.  Or Yahtzee.  They seemed like Yahtzee people.

Sensei Omino had forbidden Yahtzee and all other word-type games from their abode when it became fairly obvious Hunter and Blake were too competitive to pursue leisurely pastimes like civil human beings – which was just another reason why Blake couldn’t date Tori.  Wasn’t like you could upright a Yahtzee set against your girlfriend when things weren’t going your way.  That was like, abuse or something.  Blake wasn’t going to do _that_ (but that would happen, if he played Yahtzee with Tori, so there you have it, dating could not happen there).

There were other, more substantial reasons why Blake couldn’t date Tori, of course.  The most prominent – and definitely cliché but _accurate_ – being that there was no way Tori would ever be able to understand Blake.  Blake watched enough TV shows about serial-killer hunting FBI agents to know that just about all teenagers were sociopaths.  Like, the hormones during that period of life kind of made empathy an impossible goal, not when the most pressing thing in life was one’s self, one’s survival, one’s…whatever normal teenagers went on about.  The point was, they were self-absorbed, and the fact that Tori was good enough to _genuinely_ care about the safety of Blue Bay Harbor’s citizens _and_ her team _and_ Cam (and Cam was a giant asshole in just about every regard, so props to her for that), was impressive in itself.  She paid attention to all that, outside of herself, her own well-being – what time would she have to spare on Blake’s multitude of issues?

She wouldn’t, because as nice as Tori was, she was a grasshopper in the ways of world’s cruelty.  There was no way she could have any point of reference to understand Blake and Hunter’s loss – which wasn’t a complaint.  Complaining about that would make Blake even more terrible, and even he had limits.  It wasn’t a complaint, it was a fact.  A fact that couldn’t be argued, that _shouldn’t_ be argued, and that Blake should stop trying to question, because it was only ever going to lead to personal injury.

What was he expecting here?  What, in the grand scheme of things, did he even want from Tori?  Physical intimacy aside (Blake was a growing boy, that much was a given), what could Tori ever possibly have to offer him?

He knew what he wanted.  And knew, just as easily, that it was not attainable.  Not in Tori.  Even if the blonde seemed kind of attracted to him, even if she treated him well, _now_ , even if he thought he saw a hint of fondness in her gaze when she looked at him, something that went beyond aesthetic appreciation into something softer, something more dangerous.  Even if the potential was _there_.

_Jesus_ , how bad was it that Blake wanted some support?  That he wanted someone who liked him for the stuff behind the warm front he put up, the broken layers underneath?  When did he start to need that outside of Hunter?  Why did he want it with _her_?

It wasn’t going to happen.  Tori would date Shane before dating Blake – would date _Cam_ (who really was just _the worst_ ).  Shane and Cam were something Tori knew, and Blake-

Blake could never be in that category, he could never be known.  It just- it was safer not to be.

He would rather lie to them every day than show them the bloodthirsty monster inside, the growing flame of hate Blake and Hunter bore, the guilt and the sorrow and the isolation and-

And hell, even if she could get beyond the whole ‘dead parent’ thing (it probably wouldn’t be hard, Tori seemed smart), there was always just, the other stuff, the stuff from _before_ -

‘Before’ was a tricky thing.  Blake didn’t allow himself to dwell on it much.

The Bradleys had been the only parents Blake had ever known, but they hadn’t been his only guardians.  His biological family-

Blake didn’t care about them.  He didn’t remember their names, didn’t care about their faces, didn’t know where they were or what they were doing and frankly, he couldn’t give two shits if they were dead.  Part of him hoped they were.  Based on the justice that had been demonstrated so far in his life though, he was pretty sure they were alive and kicking, probably even _thriving_ , without him, but he sincerely hoped they weren’t.

If Blake could trade his biological family for the Bradleys, he would in a heartbeat.  He was terrible enough to make that deal.  Maybe that was the teenage sociopath in him.

His caseworker, the counselors, the Bradleys – there had always been a recurring theme.  One trait they had in common, one thing they always said – that it hadn’t been Blake’s fault, that he hadn’t done anything to deserve what his parents had done to him.

Hunter had come to the Bradleys because of neglect – he had just kind of bounced around from family member to family member, and from what the blond hadn’t said, they hadn’t exactly been _mean_ , but they hadn’t really had enough of _anything_ (money, food, clothes, whatever) to pay attention to Hunter, to share with Hunter. 

Well, it was on those idiots for not seeing how amazing Hunter was.  Blake was glad the Bradleys had recognized his worth, like they knew he would fit just so _perfectly_ into their little family unit, blond hair, blue eyes, just like them.  Wouldn’t even know they weren’t blood unless you asked.

Hunter had been chosen. 

Blake had been charity.

It didn’t matter, in the end, because they loved him just as much and had never treated him like less (even when he deserved it, he deserved less _so much_ of the time but they didn’t give it to him because they were good, they were so good and Blake missed them _so much_ ).  But the instigating fact was there, all the same.

They had pulled Blake away from his family kicking and screaming – because even though they hurt him, it was a hurt he _knew_ , and he didn’t want to be taken away and hurt somewhere else.  The demon you know, right?  But he- he remembered it now, remembered with startling clarity the twisted logic of a six year old. 

Because the only reason they had hurt him was because he had been bad, and the only reason he was being taken away was because they had hurt him and- and part of him, that stupid, six-year old part of him, just wanted another chance to be good enough.  Good enough that he wouldn’t get hurt, that he wouldn’t be taken, good enough to make mom and dad happy.  Good enough to be their son.

It was stupid, the counselors were right – Blake’s parents had been mean and drunk and probably a little unhinged and there was nothing he could have ever done to make them happy.  There would have always been an excuse; he would have always been taken away.  Getting a family like the Bradleys had not been a guarantee; Blake knew that was his lottery for life when they had chosen him, when he trusted them enough to appreciate what they offered. It could have been worse.  He could have a life sans-Hunter.  It could have been another place like his parents.

It wasn’t good, it wasn’t great and it wasn’t his fault, but-

_But_.

There was always that doubt - that tiny, _relentless_ doubt that lingered throughout the years - the one that Blake could never voice.  Not to the Bradleys, not to Hunter, not to _anybody_.

Because maybe his parents had seen what nobody else could.  Maybe there had been some kind of flaw from the beginning that Blake could not fix, or worse-

What if Blake was just one drink away from being _them_?  What if he was just as mean and broken and _hateful_ as they had been, but the potential hadn’t been tapped?  What if it was an inevitability?

Blake couldn’t date Tori.  He’d had his fill of charity and lies, but mostly-

If he could contain that…that possibility, if he could cut off potential targets before they got too close, before they valued his opinion and his friendship or something equally shitty but endearing – if he could do _that_ -?

Then maybe he could succeed where his biological parents had failed.  Maybe he could _win_.  Earn his goodness from the universe, be the best brother he could be, the best teammate, the best employee.

These were small things he could manage, but a boyfriend?

Blake was smart enough to know when to bow out.

Blake couldn’t date Tori. 

She would thank him for it, one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t expecting angsty Blake either, okay?
> 
> Until next time :)

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who didn’t slog through the muddy trails of ‘Any Moment’ – this chapter is basically eluding to an early storyline between Cam and Hunter. Cam essentially leads Hunter on to keep the blond’s attention off of Dustin – which, while unquestionably awful, had seemed like a good idea at the time. Myself, like past-Cam, did not have the greatest decision-making process. Probably didn’t help that I wasn’t all that fond of Hunter. Oh, how the times have changed :)
> 
> There will be more chapters. As to when or how long, I cannot say for certain. Sorry, folks.
> 
> For previous anniversary pieces, see below:
> 
> 1\. Any Moment – Chapter 45: The Rainbow Connection  
> 2\. Songs About Rainbows  
> 3\. Beyond that Bright World Lies Despair  
> 4\. All Things Great and True  
> 5\. Happiness is a Firefly
> 
> Until next time :)


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